Midwinter must not be the chilled wind,
Emptying tears from a child’s eye,
Shivering a mother’s fear. Midwinter
Cannot destroy the flame of youth,
Nor the embers of age.
This eve, heralding a special day,
Should not be a solstice of despair;
A longing for a Heaven that is not of Earth;
A craving for the end of guilt, survival
Of what was once a life, hearts frozen
Outside a world still full of compassion.
Midwinter would not be the end of warmth
If summer flowered in our minds.
Scattering seeds of our future onto these dark days
Is not an act of desperation
But an act of love for future generations.
Defy the nay-sayers and the dooms-dayers; a little bit o’ hope for the Holidays. – mh